


Sunlight is Fire (Burning is a Matter of Degrees)

by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Eddie is Also a Monsterfucker and Nobody is More Surprised than Eddie, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Fuck Or Die, Getting Together, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Succubi & Incubi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:14:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27107770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/pseuds/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
Summary: In the wake of Buck's leg injury, Eddie learns that his friend needs some unusual methods to help him recover. Eddie's willing to do whatever it takes to help Buck, and it's not like this could make his quiet pining any worse, right?...right?
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 83
Kudos: 556





	Sunlight is Fire (Burning is a Matter of Degrees)

Eddie can fully admit he’s paranoid about Buck after the ladder truck. They all are. Bobby, Maddie, all of them, even though they’re trying not to act like it because the last thing Buck wants is for any of them to—God forbid—feel _sorry_ for him and if he sees even a whiff of concern he acts like a cat that someone’s dumped a bucket of water on.

This isn’t just paranoia though, Eddie’s sure of it. Ever since the truck, Buck’s been looking… worse.

He can’t be imagining it. Buck’s eyes are duller, he’s tired more and more, he’s getting mood swings, he’s just not healing. And Eddie’s done PT, he knows it sucks, he knows recovering after something like that, both physically and mentally, isn’t a straight line, but this is different.

He hasn’t been sure how to broach the subject, since he knows Buck and he knows the guy will dig his heels in and put up a stink if Eddie tries, but he can’t—he can’t just sit by and do nothing.

When it’s his day to help Buck with his PT, he arrives a few minutes early. To his surprise, Chim’s car is there too. Maybe he was dropping something off from Maddie?

Eddie lets himself in, and takes about two steps before he overhears the conversation inside and realizes, far too late, that he shouldn’t be here for this.

“I can’t believe this,” Chim says. “No, wait, I can. You are literally dying and you’re still being stubborn about this.”

“It’s not about being stubborn, Chim.” Buck sounds raw, angry, tired.

“So what’s it about, then, Buck? Because Maddie’s scared, okay? Frankly, I’m getting a little scared too. Can’t you just go out and find someone at a bar? Use Tinder?”

Eddie pauses. He can feel himself frowning. Tinder? Is this about _sex?_ Buck can’t have sex. He’s recovering from having his damn leg crushed.

“No.” Buck’s tone is final. “I can’t. And frankly it’s none of your damn business, okay? You don’t get it. I can handle this, I’m fine.”

Eddie can’t move. There are creaky floorboards all around him. He’s so fucked. He shouldn’t be hearing this.

Chim sighs and Eddie hears the telltale sound of cushions shifting on the couch. “Look, Buck… Maddie told me what it was like for her. With… Doug. How he kept her starving, too… too weak to fight back. She explained what it does to you guys. So I might not understand what it feels like but you can’t lie to me and say that you’re fine. I know you’re not. And I know that there’s no way you can recover from this if you don’t… feed yourself.”

Eddie has no idea what that means. Is Buck not eating? But of course he is, Eddie’s seen him eat. And Maddie… was her ex literally keeping food from her? While he wouldn’t put that kind of behavior past someone like Doug, that doesn’t fit anything else he was told by Buck about how Maddie was abused.

“I can’t,” Buck says. He sounds defeated. “Ali left me. She broke up with me. And I can’t… meaningless sex was fine before, it really was, but after Abby I… I don’t _want_ to find some stranger. I tried, y’know, with Taylor Kelly and it just felt like shit. It was worse than not feeding at all.”

Okay, first of all, he fucking _knew_ Buck slept with Taylor Kelly, he fucking _knew_ it. Second of all… what does sex have to do with feeding?

“Is there no one you could have?” Chim asks, his voice gentle. Eddie thinks people often forget, under the snark, how goodhearted Chim is. “I know, there’s not someone like—Abby, but—someone you care about and trust? If you explained the situation…”

Buck makes a raw, wet sound, one that tears into Eddie’s heart. “Who? Hen? Bobby?”

“Ew.”

“You? My sister doesn’t keep you busy enough?” There’s a smirk in Buck’s voice but it sounds pained.

“There’s no way for me to answer that question in a way that’s not going to gross you out.”

“Point taken. But I’m serious, Chim. There’s no one.”

Eddie figures the conversation’s gotten vague enough that he can afford to step into the room and make his presence known without killing the remainder of Buck’s dignity, so he quickly makes as much noise as possible opening the front door.

Buck’s sitting on the couch, Chim next to him, and _fuck_. Buck looks bad. His skin is sallow, his eyes so dull they’re like fogged glass, his lips chapped.

“You look like Hell,” Eddie blurts out. “Do you need water or something?”

Chim looks from Eddie, to Buck, to Eddie, to Buck again, a smirk on his face that Eddie’s not all that sure he likes.

“No,” Buck says.

“Yes,” Chim replies.

“ _No_.”

“C’mon. Who’s better than your best friend?”

Buck looks over at Eddie. His eyes are dark with shame, and for some reason, that makes Eddie feel—certain. He knows that no matter what the question is, he’s going to say yes, because he’ll walk through fire if it means that ashamed look leaves Buck’s eyes.

“So, Eddie.” Buck tries for casual and fails. “Do you, uh, how much do you believe in the supernatural?”

* * *

Eddie frowns and folds his arms. “An incubus.”

Buck points at Chim accusingly. “I told you he wouldn’t believe it.”

“I mean, saying you’re a supernatural creature that needs to feed off orgasms to survive does sound like the kind of insane pickup line you would come up with,” Eddie acknowledges. “But c’mon. How crazy do you two think I am?”

Chim nudges Buck with his shoulder. Buck mumbles something unintelligible. Chim nudges him harder.

With a sigh, Buck stands. “Don’t freak out.”

“Why would I freak out?”

“I freaked out,” Chim says.

Eddie’s about to ask what the hell that’s supposed to mean, and then Buck—isn’t Buck anymore.

Well, he still is Buck, Eddie can see that, but he’s not… _human_. His eyes glow unnaturally blue, his pupils and whites gone, and his skin is red. Not that bright, unnatural red that’s clearly painted on for people playing the Devil on Halloween, but a darker, muted red that fluctuates in color here and there like real skin, some patches like right at his waistband a dark, almost purplish color, and some others like his throat lighter, closer to orange. Dark, blue-black-purple horns spiral up from near his temples, curving in and then around in a little twist. The tips of Buck’s fingers are now stained black, like he dipped them in soot.

And swishing around behind him is a tail.

Eddie can feel his jaw dropping open with a soft popping noise.

Chim points. “Yeah that’s about the face I made when Maddie showed me.”

“Maddie’s prettier,” Buck mumbles. He rubs at his cheeks, which are turning purple, and _oh,_ Eddie realizes Buck’s blushing. “So, uh, yeah, like I said. Incubus. My whole family.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to do with his eyes, where to look. “Can I uh, touch?”

Buck nods.

Eddie reaches out and squeezes Buck’s shoulder. Feels the same. Buck’s face feels the same too. It just all looks different.

“Does anyone else know about this?”

Buck shakes his head. “Just Chim. Maddie had to tell him, she needed a feeding partner.”

“It’s great,” Chim says, unhelpfully.

“If we go too long without, um, feeding off someone’s… orgasms… we die. And I was fine, but the ladder truck really knocked me for six, and then Ali left so there’s no one I can…”

“You can’t feed, so you’re dying.”

Buck nods. Scratches the back of his neck. “I can do all the physical therapy in the world, eat all the human food, do all of that right, but if I don’t feed it won’t matter.”

Eddie’s connecting the dots. “So you need me.”

Buck’s entire face goes purple.

“Well, who better than his best friend?” Chim says. He sounds far too cheerful about this entire thing. “You can trust each other, and hey, it’s not a bad deal if I say so myself.”

Eddie’s not sure what his face is doing but it sure feels hot.

The thing is, he noticed that Buck is… Buck. He’s always noticed. But he wasn’t in a place for that kind of thing, and he wasn’t going to ruin the best friendship he’s ever had. Then Shannon came back, and it was always… just… easier. Easier to tell himself there was nothing to see there.

There’s definitely a lot to see here, though. And Eddie’s exactly the kind of masochist that would sign himself up for this sort of shit. The writing’s on the wall.

“Would it really help?” he asks. “Would it help you get better?”

Buck nods, his hands fidgeting with his jeans, like he doesn’t know what to do with them.

And suddenly, Eddie doesn’t care about the red skin, or the horns, or the tail. It’s just his best friend, scared and bashful, standing in front of him—needing him—unable to even look Eddie in the eye in fear Eddie will say no.

He steps in closer and takes Buck’s chin in his hands, lifts it up. “Hey. Of course I’ll help. Whatever you need, we’ll get you better.”

Buck blinks at him in surprise, and then smiles, soft and happy. Eddie’d do a lot of stupid things for that smile.

“Excellent,” Chim says, and Eddie jumps. He’d forgotten the other guy was there. “Be safe, you crazy kids.”

Buck throws a pillow at him as Chim makes his escape.

* * *

They go upstairs.

In a way this is the most boring, awkward sexual encounter Eddie’s ever had. There’s no slow buildup of tension, no making eyes and flirtatious remarks, no long walk home after a date. It’s just _well, here’s where the bed is_.

“Some quick info, about how this’ll work,” Buck says. He won’t look at Eddie. “I don’t have any condoms left, but I can’t get or spread any STDs so it doesn’t matter if you’re clean or not. I mean, I figure you are, but I just wanted to let you know.”

“I’m clean. For the record. I appreciate the faith in me.”

Buck’s tail twitches. He’s still avoiding Eddie’s gaze. “You’re going to come. A lot.”

Eddie pauses on the landing. “Buck, I hate to dash your hopes, but I’m closer to thirty than twenty, here.”

“Saliva,” Buck explains. “When I… when I kiss people, if they swallow, uh… it has an aphrodisiac? Of some kind? Basically it helps get you really, um… you’re going to be able to get it up just fine, is what I’m saying.”

“Are you telling me your spit is like Viagra?” Eddie would laugh if it wasn’t for the weird heat stirring in his chest.

Buck’s grin is pure sin. “Oh, no, that just gets you hard the first time. What I do is more like… it keeps your body fresh. One orgasm isn’t enough. You want more, and you’re capable of having more.”

“Fantastic. I’ve always wanted to be a sex-crazed maniac.”

Buck snorts. “You’re not—anyway. I don’t usually do it. It feels like… like cheating. And if I’m feeding regularly, just one or two orgasms at a time is fine.”

“But you’re too weak right now,” Eddie finishes.

Buck nods, looking sheepish. “Also, uh.”

He opens his mouth wide and his tongue… _slides_ out. Like a snake. It’s long, and split down the middle—not the whole way, but for a good few inches of it.

Eddie really hates himself that his first thought is _that thing’s gonna feel so good inside me._

“It’s a lot,” Buck says, the words contorted amusingly since he’s speaking with his tongue still hanging out.

“I think I know why girls liked you now.”

Buck’s tongue slides back into his mouth. “Fuck you.” It’s said without heat. “So you’re… no questions?”

“Nope. I mean, sounds pretty standard. You’re going to drug me and make me come, several times, while feeding off my energy. Y’know, the typical porn stuff.”

He grins and Buck flips him off, turning away. Eddie can’t tell if his attitude is helping set Buck at ease or making it worse. Maybe a little of both.

Buck keeps his head down, stripping economically. “We can do whatever you’re comfortable with. If you just want—I don’t even know if you’re into—”

“I’m into men,” Eddie admits. “And I’m into… all of it. Just haven’t had a reason.”

The only man he’s ever thought about doing that with since high school is standing in front of him and Eddie sure isn’t about to bring his own complicated stupid emotions into this already-potently-awkward mess.

“Great, great, that’s great.” Buck nods nervously.

“Is this how you usually seduce people? Because I have to say, I feel like all those _My Secret Demon Lover_ Harlequin novels were lying.”

Buck turns around and glares at him. “Look, first of all, usually I look human. I don’t tell the person, _oh hey I’m literally feeding off your orgasms, that’s cool with you, right?_ And the person’s actually interested in me, they’re not doing it as a favor. We met, there was a spark, we flirted.”

Eddie’s trying very, very hard, no pun intended, to ignore Buck’s dick. Because that? Is not human. Unless he missed the memo and he’s the only human male without ridges and a double head. “All right then, Casanova, flirt with me.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Look, neither of us are going to get it up or get anything done if we’re both feeling awkward. So, do whatever you have to do. Get yourself in the mood. Get, uh, me, in the mood.” Eddie gestures at himself. “Unless that’s a real chore for you.”

Buck stares at him for a moment, and then Eddie sees something… shift, in Buck’s eyes. It’s hard to tell, when they’re just blue orbs, but there’s just something… new. The way Buck holds himself, the slope of his shoulders, the cock of his hip. He looks Eddie up and down, slowly, lingering, and Eddie feels heat start to slide down his spine.

Buck walks over, and even though Eddie’s the one with his clothes still on and Buck’s showing all the skin, he feels like it’s reversed—like he’s the one stripped bare.

“No,” Buck says softly, and his fingers ever so gently stroke the curve of Eddie’s jaw.

It’s kind of hard to breathe all of a sudden.

Buck’s thumb presses against the corner of Eddie’s lips for a brief moment, just long enough to make Eddie wonder what would happen if he parted his lips and drew that thumb in, sucked on it—and then Buck’s fingers drift down to Eddie’s throat, still stroking, as he stares at Eddie’s mouth like he wants to devour it.

“It’s not a chore to flirt with you at all,” Buck murmurs, a purr lurking at the edges of his voice.

His fingers curl into a fist that grabs Eddie’s shirt, hauling him forward, pressing them together but stopping just short of slamming Eddie’s mouth to Buck’s.

Jesus Christ, he’s doomed.

“But I don’t want to flirt with you,” Buck continues. He sounds amused, the purr stronger now, and Eddie’s no longer thinking about how doomed he is because there’s no more blood in his brain, it’s all gone south.

Buck’s arm slides around Eddie’s waist, trapping him, although Eddie had no intention of trying to pull away. He looks up at Eddie through his lashes, all coy like he’s not naked and pressing every inch of it up against Eddie’s body. “I want to _ruin_ you.”

Oh, Eddie’s fully on board with that.

He inhales, and that’s an opportunity Buck’s not passing up, clearly, because the next second his tongue is sliding in between Eddie’s parted lips and his mouth is sealed over Eddie’s.

Okay, first of all, the dual tongue thing is unfair. Eddie’s dizzy almost instantly, making several very undignified noises as his mouth is slowly, thoroughly _fucked_. If this is anything like what’s to come, his brain is going to be a puddle of goo by the end. Second of all, Buck’s kiss tastes sweet, like caramel, and it’s only when Eddie’s entire body flashes hot that he remembers why.

The aphrodisiac, in Buck’s saliva.

Jesus— _fuck_. Being told about it wasn’t nearly enough preparation for actually experiencing it. He wants to rip his own clothes off, he feels like he’s one stiff breeze away from coming, he feels like his blood’s been replaced by lava.

Buck pulls back, puts space between them, his hold on Eddie keeping Eddie from closing the distance. Eddie glares at him. “Using superpowers is cheating.”

Honestly he’s impressed he can even get words out right now. He should probably be more concerned about the fact that he’d do just about anything if Buck promised him an orgasm for it, but then, that’s his usual state of affairs even if he’d never admit as much to Buck, so he’s not too worried.

“I did warn you ahead of time.” Buck sounds completely unrepentant.

Eddie uses his last shreds of dignity to keep himself from tackling Buck to the bed. “What—what comes next? What do I do?”

Buck smiles at him, pleased and bright and puppyish, and that’s the Buck that Eddie knows. The reason he’s trusting this strange new creature in front of him.

Buck steps in again, this time a bit softer, and slides his hands down Eddie’s chest until he can slip his fingers underneath Eddie’s shirt. Eddie shivers.

The look on Buck’s face is both starving and tender, all at once.

“All you have to do is let me make you feel good,” Buck whispers, and Eddie has the sudden, startling realization that he now understands exactly how Buck hooked up with all those women.

Buck’s lips brush at the skin right below Eddie’s ear. “And I’m very, _very_ good at that.”

Yeah, Eddie has zero doubts about that.

Something… thin and supple, definitely not a hand, slides into Eddie’s pants, curls around his hot, leaking cock. He grabs onto Buck’s shoulders for support as Buck’s lips find his neck, and he glances down.

It’s Buck’s _tail_ in there.

That really should not be as sexy as it is, what the fuck.

Buck kisses down Eddie’s neck, his throat, scrapes his teeth over Eddie’s jaw. They’re a bit sharper than usual. “Gotta take the edge off.”

Eddie presses his face into Buck’s shoulder, his legs trembling as Buck’s tail draws his cock out of his jeans and strokes it, efficient, tight, the sensation strange but good and a little rough the way Eddie likes it, it’s like Buck is reading his mind, knows exactly how Eddie likes to get himself off, and he just stands there and whimpers and takes it as Buck throws him right over the edge.

Buck groans, sounding intoxicated and relieved at the same time as Eddie spills all over Buck’s tail. “Oh, _fuck_ yes, I knew it—I knew you’d taste so fucking good—”

He grinds against Eddie’s thigh a little, and Eddie shivers, because, hey, he’s up for it, but taking that cock is going to require a lot of prep.

“Taste?” he asks. Buck was right, whatever he gave him—one orgasm isn’t enough. He wants more.

“Orgasms—it’s not taste but that’s the closest word I can—y’know so if it’s like a hate fuck, the orgasm tastes sour. Stays in your mouth for days, don’t do it.”

“Noted.”

“But you taste…” Buck slides his tongue over his bottom lip as he pulls back, and Eddie can feel himself getting hard again, just from watching that. “ _God_. I have such plans for you.”

Another full-body shiver wrecks him. “Then stop talking about it and do it.”

Buck snorts with laughter, but his tail unwinds from around Eddie’s cock and he steps backwards, towards the bed. “Well, if you insist.”

Eddie does, in fact, insist.

His hands are shaking as he lifts his shirt up and over his head, and before he can even finish the motion deft fingers are at his waist, pushing his pants down. He tosses his shirt away and is met with Buck’s mouth, Buck’s tongue only teasing him this time, darting in and then out, making Eddie greedy, hungry for more.

He kind of pushes Buck, and takes a step forward, and somehow as a result he ends up straddling Buck on the bed, hands sliding all over Buck’s skin. The skin feels just like a human’s, and thank fuck for that, because it means Eddie’s not entirely out of his depth here and can give as well as take. He knows that it’s his own orgasms that Buck’s feeding off, his pleasure, not Buck’s, but still… he wants to be good to Buck. He wants to be a… a generous lover, for lack of a better term. Every other part of relationships, he messes up. But the one thing Shannon never complained about was the sex. It was the one thing she wanted from him when she came back. So this—this, he can do. This he can make good.

Buck groans as Eddie’s hands skim over his stomach, pinch his nipples, squeeze his ass. “ _I’m_ supposed to be taking care of _you,_ y’know.”

“You’re injured,” Eddie says, which is a completely nonsensical answer.

Buck doesn’t seem to mind, his eyes burning blue and happy. “Not _too_ injured.”

That’s also nonsense, but Eddie doesn’t have time to point it out before Buck’s flipping him over and sliding down, between Eddie’s legs, kissing along the planes of his stomach. He knows he’s gotten a little, um, filled out, firefighting adding more muscle and taking away the cut abs he used to have, but Buck doesn’t seem to mind. His tail thrashes happily back and forth as he bites and sucks at Eddie’s skin, leaving little red and purple marks from his mouth.

Eddie reaches down for Buck’s hair, only to find his fingers brushing up against one of Buck’s curling horns instead.

He pauses.

Buck looks up. “You can hold onto them,” he says, and then adds, bashful, “if you want.”

The strange mix of pure confidence and sexual prowess combined with sweet shyness is making Eddie’s head whirl. Still, he wraps his fingers around the horns, and finds them smooth to the touch, like polished wood. It’s nice, actually.

His grip tightens involuntarily as Buck—as Buck’s _tongue_ —reaches out and laps at Eddie’s cock.

He swears, jerks, and Buck laughs, a dark purring chuckle that makes something stir in Eddie’s chest that Eddie knows has nothing to do with any aphrodisiac.

“Oh,” Buck tells him, voice dark and thick, “you’re going to _love_ this.”

Eddie thinks he’s going to wrap that tongue around Eddie’s cock, the same as his tail did, but instead Buck ducks his head down, black-tipped fingers digging into Eddie’s thighs, and begins to lap at Eddie’s entrance.

Eddie makes a very eloquent sound somewhere around the vicinity of _hhnngghh_.

Buck’s tongue quickly makes a mess of him, loosens up his rim, and gets Eddie’s spine absolutely melting into the mattress. And then the damn thing wiggles _inside_.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Eddie wheezes out eloquently.

It feels like—it feels like—he doesn’t even _know_ what it feels like, he just knows it feels so fucking _good_. He yanks on Buck’s horns, uses them for leverage as his heels dig into the mattress and his hips give dirty little thrusts down onto that goddamn fucking—he’s not even sure Buck’s _breathing_ , does he need to breathe? Fuck, fuck, _fuck—_

His orgasm takes him by complete surprise, painting his stomach. He feels like his entire body is made of jelly.

Buck lets out a deep groan of satisfaction but doesn’t… fucking… _stop_. That long, curling, two-part tongue is going farther than any other ever could and it’s pressing right up—right up—fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck—

Eddie’s oversensitive, but he still wants more, he’s still burning, he’s still _craving_ , and Buck thank God knows it and doesn’t relent for even a second, even as embarrassing whimpers slip out from between Eddie’s lips and he orgasms for a third time, almost before he finishes coming down from the second.

Buck finally withdraws at that, crawls up just a bit more and laps it all up from Eddie’s stomach, seals his lips around the head of Eddie’s cock, toys with him, takes his time. Eddie can’t stop shivering.

“I take back every joke I made,” he manages to gasp out.

Buck pulls off his dick long enough to say, “You sure? The orgasms were leaving me kind of on the fence,” and deliver a shit-eating grin before swallowing the entire six inches whole again.

Eddie’s going to kill the guy the moment he’s no longer drowning in lust and ecstasy.

When he comes that time, Buck swallows everything.

“C’mere,” he pants, pulling properly on Buck’s horns.

Buck does as he’s told, crawling up until they’re face to face. Maybe it’s just the fuzziness that comes with the endorphins, but staring at Buck right now, he can’t understand how he ever looked at him and thought he was a different creature. It’s still so very plainly _Buck_ , and he knows, he trusts, he l—

It’s still Buck, is the point.

“What do you want?” he asks. He takes Buck’s face in his hands and kisses him, tastes himself on Buck’s glorious, unholy tongue.

“I should be asking you that,” Buck huffs. “You’re helping me out here.”

“Hey.” He pulls back just enough that he can look Buck in the eye. “Maybe I am. But I’m not exactly suffering here. This shouldn’t—this isn’t about—you’re allowed to enjoy this, Buck. You shouldn’t feel guilty for needing this. I’m happy to give it.”

He’s happy to give himself to Buck.

Buck’s cheeks go purple. “I—could I—I want to fuck you.”

Eddie, to his utter embarrassment, starts spreading his legs before he even realizes that’s what’s happening.

Buck flushes harder as he feels it, and bites his lip, eyes practically sparkling with tease. “I guess you’re not opposed to it.”

He reaches down, teases the tips of his fingers along Eddie’s spit-slick entrance. Eddie’s eyes flutter closed, caught up in anticipation, but those fingers don’t go any further.

Teeth nip at his ear. “I want to hear you say it.”

It’s not even a question of if he will. He turns, fingers sliding through Buck’s soft hair, and whispers _fuck me_ into Buck’s mouth right before he kisses him.

Buck’s fingers slide inside, scissoring, searching, and Eddie groans, sucks on the tongue that Buck’s sliding in and out of his mouth. It twists around and over itself the way it did inside him, between his legs, and the memory of that just makes Eddie ache that much harder.

Eddie’s dimly aware that he probably shouldn’t be quite so open and loose without some lube, and is pretty sure once again Buck’s tongue or saliva or _something_ helped his body along, but he’s getting fucked with three fingers by this point so he’s not all that sure he cares.

Then Buck adds a fourth, and Eddie starts swearing.

There’s no way he’s letting Buck be on top, though, incubi or no—the guy’s leg is injured—so they have to roll over and Eddie braces himself, straddles Buck’s lap.

Buck keeps asking him, even as he lines himself up, even as Eddie starts to guide him in, “Are you sure, Eddie, please make sure, I don’t want to hurt you, please are you sure,” and Eddie has to keep kissing _yes, yes, yes,_ until Buck at last lets Eddie just do what he wants.

And what he wants is to ride Buck like he’s in a goddamn rodeo.

Mother _fuck_. Buck’s tail thrashes uncontrollably and he sucks a vicious hickey into Eddie’s jaw as Eddie slowly, carefully, sinks onto him. Eddie’s entire goddamn body is on fire, he can’t even _move_ it feels so good, he’s a shivering wreck and they haven’t even done anything with it yet. The slightly rough texture, the ridges, pressing up against him, almost but not quite scraping—the thick base—the double head, and he quickly figures out what _that’s_ for when it all nestles perfectly against his prostate—yeah it’s a good thing he doesn’t make a habit of going to mass anyway because after this he’s going to be struck by lightning for liking it so damn much, for wanting it all the damn time. He digs long scratches into Buck’s chest as he starts to get bolder, snap his hips harder, turning from barely-there little thrusts into movements that have the bed shaking. And it’s still not _enough_. He still wants more.

It’s hard at first—no pun intended—because Buck’s not exactly small, here, but Eddie’s patient, and determined, and soon he can get all the way down, hips flush together, pull up until Buck’s barely in him and then sink down in one smooth, long, fierce glide that has him making noises he wasn’t aware were possible.

The whole time, Buck’s murmuring praises that Eddie’s not even sure the guy realizes he’s vocalizing, words like _pretty_ and _beautiful_ and _perfect_.

Eddie buries his face in Buck’s shoulder as he starts to lose his rhythm, gets impatient and chases that final high. He’s not so good with compliments, with words. Buck loves it. If you look up ‘praise kink’ in the dictionary, you’ll find a picture of Buck. Eddie, not so much. But there’s something about Buck so _mindless_ about it, unable to stop himself from it, that has Eddie’s chest cracking open faster than Eddie can pull it back together again.

He’s just glad that Buck can’t see his expression right now. Can’t see how Eddie’s feeling.

And then he’s got no time for his little emotional crisis because Buck starts moving.

Eddie would like to file a formal complaint with whoever came up with this double-dick thing, because holy shit, he’s not gonna be satisfied with just his own fingers ever again. Buck’s been holding back on him this whole time, at least where strength is concerned—now, he holds Eddie in place and positions him how he wants so that Buck can fuck into him fast, precise, hitting the bull’s eye every time. Eddie has no fucking clue what kind of filth is pouring out of his mouth right now and he really doesn’t want to know, thanks, he needs to be able to look himself in the eye in the mirror later.

For the first time, he starts to feel that Buck’s close—that he might also get to come at the end of all this. Eddie holds on tighter, hand on Buck’s arms to urge him on, digs his nails in. He wants it, he wants Buck to enjoy this, wants to make Buck _happy_ —

It’s on that thought that he comes, hard, and Buck makes an odd strangled noise. Eddie peels his eyes open in time to see Buck staring at him, eyes wide, a shocked sort of look on his face. He’d ask what it means, except Buck bottoms out inside him and comes—and oh, yeah, two cockheads, two loads of—well _that’s_ going to be a fucking mess to clean out of his ass later.

Something about that just sets Eddie off, the whole ridiculous situation encapsulated, and he starts laughing. Buck smiles at him, wicked and angelic, and nuzzles at Eddie’s throat.

“You good?” Eddie asks. He idly runs the tip of his finger along one of Buck’s horns.

Buck sighs happily. It’s the first time Eddie’s heard him sound like that since the truck fell on him. “Very.”

Eddie strokes his fingers up and down Buck’s side and watches him fall asleep.

* * *

After that, it’s pretty routine.

Buck looks—well, ‘amazing’ is probably hyperbole, but that’s how it feels to Eddie. Buck’s eyes are bright again, his skin supple with a pink, healthy glow, he has energy, his temper’s better, his smiles returning. He does his PT, and everything’s back to normal.

It’s just that the two of them fuck roughly once a week.

Buck never gets Eddie artificially keyed up anymore, and instead does it the old-fashioned way, with smoldering looks and loaded touches, soft kisses to Eddie’s nape and jaw, filthy whispered promises, his hand (or tail) sneaking down Eddie’s pants.

Eddie never says no. Not because he can’t, but because he never wants to. And he can tell himself it’s just for Buck’s health all that he wants, that it’s the best option because Buck trusts him and knows him and doesn’t have to hide with him.

The way he covers up the love bites on his neck and can’t meet his own gaze in the mirror says otherwise.

And if Eddie craves the way he feels out of control, the way he's so entirely in Buck's hands, how fucking _capable_ Buck is, well, that's between him and his pillow at two in the morning and nobody else. Sometimes he wishes Buck would drug him again, feed him that sweet poison, hell, inject it right into his veins like venom, but he doesn't know how to ask for that and Buck never offers.

Everything’s going so well, better than well, they’re amazing, and so of course, he gets complacent. Thinks his magical orgasms have solved the whole damn problem, when really, Buck’s feedings are just one part of who he is, and there’s a whole other way for him to get hurt.

A whole other way he can die.

He sees Buck the night after they discharge him from the hospital. He sneaks into Buck’s place and slides into his bed, kisses Buck awake, guides Buck’s leg between his. “Just one,” he whispers, as Buck tries to protest that he’s fine. “Just one, okay? Don’t tell me you don’t need it.”

Buck’s too upset to do much and Eddie’s too keyed up from panicking over watching the man he—his best friend vomit up blood, so they just grind against each other, kissing wet and sloppy until Eddie comes against Buck’s thigh—the uninjured one—and Buck sobs, literally, into Eddie’s shoulder when he follows.

He doesn’t stay the night, because Christopher’s back home waiting, but he wipes Buck up afterwards and he swears the circles under Buck’s eyes, the paleness of Buck’s skin, is a little less.

It’ll be fine, he tells himself. He’ll just be better. He got lazy. He didn’t give Buck enough. He’ll do better this time. So what if Buck mopes for three days and doesn’t answer any calls? Eddie just shows up at Buck’s place with Christopher in tow.

A day with Christopher, a day outside of the house, not feeling sorry for himself, it’ll do Buck wonders. And then Eddie will fuck him later, or get fucked, or something, and Buck will be better. He’s got this. He’s not going to slip up, he’s going to heal Buck better.

The universe keeps laughing at him.

The day after—the day after, Buck won’t even meet Eddie’s eyes. He looks human, mostly, except for when he blinks and his too-blue eyes shine through for a moment. “I _lost_ him, Eddie.”

Well. There’s only one thing to say to that.

When he comes back to pick Christopher up after work, his kid is happily playing some racer car game, and Buck’s cleaning up the remains of the pizza.

Eddie lets himself watch for a moment. Takes in the way Buck’s muscles bunch up and shift under his shirt, the way his hair matches the sunlight, the way his whole body twitches with constant energy.

He’s the loveliest thing Eddie’s ever seen.

It’s not the most responsible thing he’s ever done as a parent but it’s not the least, either. Christopher’s happy to be allowed to finish his game on the TV, and Eddie takes Buck upstairs to the bathroom, turns the shower on to cover any noises.

Buck wraps a hand around them both, his arm around Eddie’s waist to keep the edge of the sink counter from digging into Eddie’s back as Buck strokes them, the ridges of his cock giving a delicious friction, a counterpoint to Eddie’s softer skin, both of them leaking so much there’s no need for spit to help ease Buck’s strokes.

“You’re so fucking,” Buck whispers, his breath hot on Eddie’s cheek, “ _fuck,_ Eddie,” and Eddie bites Buck’s neck to muffle his moan as he comes and comes and comes.

He’s being better.

* * *

They patch things up after the lawsuit, but it’s not the same.

Not that it should be. Buck’s healthy. His leg’s fine. He’s even off the blood thinners. He doesn’t need Eddie anymore.

 _He still needs to feed,_ a little voice in the back of his head tells him. The voice sounds a lot like Hen, and Eddie ignores it. Buck can go out and get it from anyone, now that he’s under control. He can do what he did pre-Abby. It’s fine.

Buck never asked Eddie to fall in love with him, and Eddie never asked Buck to reciprocate. He went into this with his eyes open, loving Buck, wanting Buck, and he knew that sleeping with him would only make it worse. He knows he did this to himself.

It’s a cold comfort.

Sometimes, he thinks Buck looks a little tired. A little pale or sallow, a little hollow. Sometimes he thinks he catches Buck looking at him, bottom lip worried between all-too-human teeth.

Eddie mentally notes that his wishful thinking has upgraded itself to delusions, and ignores it.

After all, if Buck wanted him, surely he’d say, right? He was never shy before, was downright grabby, handsy, telling Eddie he’d make it so very good for him if Eddie would just please let Buck blow him, pretty please.

Modesty isn’t exactly the guy’s forte.

It’s all fine, and he tells himself it’s all fine, and then Abby comes back.

* * *

Buck is doing an incredible job of not moping, thank you.

Maddie has a different opinion.

She’s remarkably patient about the whole thing, waiting until after Red dies to say anything to him. She shows up at his apartment with donuts and coffee, and Buck knows from the red gleam in her eyes that he’s in for it.

Personally, he thinks he looks like an idiot in his true form. But Maddie looks elegant, wickedly beautiful, sharp little canines and pure red eyes and golden horns that curl properly instead of sticking straight up like Buck’s moronic height hazards.

Apparently when she first showed Chim his response was to blurt out, “Holy shit you’re an _angel_ ,” which had made Maddie laugh so hard she’d fallen off the bed and bruised her knee.

Yeah. Buck’s never gotten _that_ reaction. Eddie stared at him like Buck was the latest CGI mishap to come out of a Halloween blockbuster.

“So,” Maddie says, sipping her coffee at Buck’s kitchen table and helping herself to a donut. “Are you going to tell me why you’re starving yourself again?”

Buck slides into a chair next to her. “I’m not—I’m fine.”

Maddie munches for a moment in silence. “I know just how long we can go without, when we really need to,” she says at last, her voice quiet and heavy.

Buck knows that. He knows the scraps she had to feed on, he knows what it did to her.

“But it’s not _healthy._ ” Maddie takes his hand. “Evan. I know… you don’t want to be who you were before. But you can still have casual sex without being a… without being like that.”

He swallows. Looks down at his coffee. “It tastes… I hate how it tastes. Like I’m eating a frozen TV dinner.”

Maddie rubs his hand. “I know.”

“I didn’t _know_ ,” Buck blurts out. “With Abby, it was—I had no idea it could be like that. And then I tried, with this one reporter—and it was awful. It was like sawdust in my mouth, and I couldn’t—Ali was better, but I was dating her because I needed to feed and I couldn’t just sleep around anymore and I knew that’s why I was doing it, I was using her and trying to make something be there when it wasn’t and—and—I didn’t _know_ , Maddie, why didn’t anyone tell me?”

He looks up at her, all of it spilling out, the way he’s felt for months and months, confused and lied to and robbed. His eyes sting.

Maddie’s eyes are wet too. “I thought you knew.”

He wipes at his eyes, downs his coffee too fast, burns his throat. “Anyway. I can’t go back, I’d rather starve.”

“What did you do during your therapy?” Maddie asks. “I know there was… someone. You never said but you were getting sicker and sicker and then all of a sudden you got better. Could you go to them?”

Buck shakes his head. “I fucked it up. Besides, they never loved me back.”

Something about that seems to spark a thought in Maddie, because she tilts her head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean—I loved them, they didn’t love me, they were just helping me out.”

“So it was… bad?”

“No, fuck no, Maddie it was…” Buck wants to scream and smile and cry all at the same time. “He tasted like birthday cake, when you’re a kid, and it tastes special. And the _glow_ … I could just drink it up, and it lasted so long, there was so much of it.”

Maddie looks seriously confused. “But… I don’t understand. How could he glow?”

“Doesn’t Chim glow for you?”

“Well of course he does, Evan, but that’s not what I’m saying.” Maddie finishes her coffee and pushes the empty cup to the side. “If he doesn’t love you back, how is he glowing?”

“…because I love him?” He’s aware Maddie’s switched the present tense, a subtle prod, but he lets her have it. She’s probably already guessed who it is by now, anyway.

Maddie stares at him for a long moment, then puts her face in her hands and groans. Buck feels rather insulted. He likes to think his unrequited love warrants something a bit more heartfelt than a groan of sibling disgust.

Maddie looks back up at him. “How do you not _know_ this stuff? Buck, your partner doesn’t glow because _you_ love them. It’s _their_ orgasm. It’s _their_ emotions. They glow because they love _you_.”

Buck shakes his head. “No.” Eddie doesn’t love him, he can’t—

“Doug glowed,” Maddie says softly. “Long after I stopped loving him, long after it all turned to loathing, he still glowed. Because _he_ still loved me, or thought he did. Ali loved you a little, so she glowed a little, didn’t she? And Abby glowed a lot, or it felt like a lot because you’d never had sex with someone who loved you before. But if he glows like you say he does…”

Maddie smiles. “Chim glows that much for me. He did right from the beginning.”

Buck looks down at his hands. His throat is thick and it’s not because he just burned it with hot caffeine juice. “What do I do?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Evan. Sounds to me like you can keep starving yourself to death, or you could just… tell him.”

He reaches blindly. Maddie helps him out, reaches back, interlocks their fingers. “Eddie loves you, Buck,” she whispers.

God, he hopes she’s right.

* * *

As if Buck’s not already having a hell of a time after his new friend died, Abby shows up at the train derailment, and Eddie has to watch Buck fling himself off of metaphorical cliffs all night trying to impress a woman that Eddie’s not even sure Buck loves anymore.

He wants to strangle the guy with his own tail.

Eddie’s fully braced for the argument that comes after, by the way, when Buck shows up at his doorstep. _We need to talk,_ is all the text said, and normally that might make Eddie a little nervous except that he knows what they’re talking about, and it’s going to start with Buck saying Eddie shouldn’t have ratted on him to Bobby and it’s going to end with Eddie telling Buck that he sure does appreciate his best friend _not telling him the full story on the woman who broke his heart_.

In fact, he has his whole speech prepared, he’s locked and loaded, when Buck steps inside and says, quietly, “So there’s something else you need to know about incubi.”

That’s the absolute last thing Eddie expects to hear, so he blurts out, “If you say you can get me pregnant I’m kicking you out.”

Buck blinks rapidly, then says, “Honestly that might be a thing, I’m realizing there’s, uh, some stuff I wasn’t really educated on—which I should’ve known, Mom and Dad aren’t really—anyway.” He rubs the back of his neck. “This is Maddie’s idea, okay? So.”

“What’s Maddie’s idea?”

Buck shifts his weight a bit, then takes Eddie’s hand and leads him to the couch. And maybe it’s a bad idea, but Eddie’s always willing to follow where Buck leads, whether that’s into bed or into fire.

“Okay.” Buck blows out a breath, and then seems unable to remember how to move forward.

Buck’s leg bounces the way it gets when he’s scared, and Eddie puts his hand on Buck’s knee without thinking. He means to move it, he really does, but somehow it just… gets stuck there.

“So, you know that… uh, there’s good sex and bad sex, right?”

“No,” Eddie replies, deadpan.

Buck flips him off. “That’s even more so for… us. I mentioned hatefucking? It’ll feed me, but it tastes like shit. Until—well. You met Abby.”

Eddie nods. “I didn’t realize what she was to you.”

Buck passes a hand over his eyes. “She’s the first person I ever really fell in love with. The first person who really fell in love with me, I should say. Before her I didn’t know… my parents never told me anything, and I guess Maddie thought I just knew how it worked, but I thought all sex was the same. That it all tasted the same, approximately.”

He looks up, but not all the way, somewhere around the vicinity of Eddie’s chin—like he’s scared of what he’ll see if he looks Eddie in the eye. “But then with Abby it was… I found out… how much better it could be. And that was why I couldn’t go back because it wasn’t—it was fine, I guess, but I still felt empty.”

Eddie can’t breathe. He knows where this is headed—his secret’s been revealed, long ago, weeks, months ago, right in front of Buck’s face, since the first time they slept together. He remembers the odd look of surprise on Buck’s face when they fucked, and now he knows what it was. It was Buck realizing he could see how Eddie felt about him.

He kind of wants to crawl into a hole and die.

“The thing is…” Buck’s still staring at Eddie’s chin rather than his eyes. “When you… when there’s… feelings… and I thought it was _my_ feelings but Maddie just told me it’s not mine, it’s the other person’s… when they orgasm it’s like—there’s this _glow_.”

He smiles, almost shyly, like they’re kids and he’s telling Eddie that he ‘like likes’ him. And at last, at _last_ , his eyes raise up to meet Eddie’s gaze.

“You glow,” he whispers. “Brighter than Abby, you glow like—it’s like I—it’s so beautiful, Eddie, you’re beautiful and I can taste it like I’m drinking sunshine and I don’t want anyone else, I can’t want anyone else, nobody glows bright as you.”

Because nobody loves Buck like he does.

“I thought it was me,” Buck repeats. “I never said anything because I thought it was me but Maddie said—she said—Eddie _please_ —”

He knows what Buck means to say. _Please tell me I’m right, please tell me she wasn’t wrong, please tell me you still love me._

Someone else came to him once and said _give me another chance._ And Eddie thought that meant they were saying they loved him still, that they wanted to build something with him, and he’d been wrong. It was easier, after that, not to hope. To remind himself that just because Buck liked sleeping with him didn’t meant jack shit—meant even less, in fact, than with Shannon, because Shannon didn’t need sex to live. Buck did.

But even his self-loathing, his doubts, can’t explain away the look in Buck’s eyes. Buck’s drowning and begging for a life raft and Eddie will never, ever not give it to him, even when Buck’s being a pain in the ass and he’s definitely not being that right now.

Eddie slides into Buck’s lap and kisses him.

Buck makes a noise of pained relief, his fingers digging into Eddie’s back, and Eddie holds Buck’s face in his hands and kisses him, over and over, shaking so hard that if it wasn’t for Buck’s hands on him he thinks he might fall apart.

His hands slid up under Buck’s shirt. It’s been months and he _wants_ him. “Lemme see you.”

“I’m right here,” Buck huffs.

“No.” Eddie passes his hand through Buck’s hair, his thumb rubbing over the spot where one of his horns would be, if Buck wasn’t in human form. “Let me _see you_.”

Buck pulls back, lips already getting a little pink and swollen, his face flushing. “I’m—um—are you sure?”

“Of fucking course I’m sure, Jesus, you thought all the times I said you looked hot that I was making it up?”

“No! Just.” Buck looks away, or tries to, but Eddie grabs his chin and tilts his face up.

“Hey.” Normally he wouldn’t say this, but Buck’s been calling him all sorts of embarrassing things in bed for months now, so Eddie figures he can return the favor. “You’re beautiful.”

The words feel a little clumsy on his tongue, but he means them. Probably more than he’s ever meant any other compliment he’s given a sexual partner.

Buck flushes a darker red, staring up at Eddie in awe like he can’t believe Eddie’s even real, and then—the flush spreads. It gets even darker, moving over Buck’s skin until it’s everywhere. His horns spiral up and his eyes, like the center of a flame, blink up at Eddie, sharp white teeth biting into his lower lip.

Buck reaches up, sin-tipped fingers sliding up Eddie’s jaw, his cheek, cupping Eddie’s face. Eddie turns his head, draws Buck’s thumb into his mouth, sucks on it—the same as the first time, and yet not the same at all.

He can feel Buck’s sharp inhale, and swirls his tongue around the pad of Buck’s thumb, staring him right in the eyes the whole time.

“ _Fuck_ , I want you,” Buck croaks, split tongue flicking out over his teeth.

Eddie lets Buck’s thumb slide out of his mouth and leans in, presses their foreheads together. “Then have me.”

He’s always had Eddie, anyway.

Buck gives that dark, deep chuckle and wraps a hand around the back of Eddie’s neck, pulling him into a kiss. Eddie just about melts. He’s missed this, he’s missed Buck, so fucking much.

He notices right away how the kiss tastes—normal. Not sweet at all. “No.” He sucks Buck’s tongue into his mouth, bites at Buck’s bottom lip. “ _Have me_.”

Buck whines, his fingers digging into Eddie’s skin. “I…”

“You’ve been starving again.” He knows it for certain, now, knows he wasn’t imagining Buck looking sicker. “You need more than just one, Buck, c’mon, I want it, I need it, have me, take me, _ruin me_.”

Buck growls, and it sounds like fire and brimstone, and the next instant he’s standing up and taking Eddie with him, Eddie’s legs around his waist, the superhuman strength Buck so rarely shows coming into play.

Thank fuck Christopher’s at camp. There’s no need to be quiet, to worry, to hide. Buck kisses him all the way to the bedroom, and Eddie’s mouth floods with the taste of caramel.

By the time they fall onto the bed, Eddie’s hot everywhere, blood pumping lava, and he squirms against Buck, hands tearing at Buck’s clothes in a vain attempt to get them to magically remove themselves. “Off, get these off, fuck’s sake—”

“Shh, I’ve got you.” Buck kisses all down his neck, bites at his collarbone, clever fingers undoing Eddie’s pants. “I love you desperate, fuck, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this—”

He moves down, spreads Eddie’s legs, and sucks Eddie down in one go.

Fuuuuuuck. Eddie grabs onto the horns as Buck’s tongue wraps around his cock, plays with the slit, adds another layer of sensation on top of the warm, sweet heat of his mouth. Eddie pants up at the ceiling, unseeing, hips hitching helplessly. God, fuck, _dammit_ , he can’t—it’s been months and he missed him and it feels so good, so good, sogoodsogoodso—

Buck lets Eddie recklessly fuck his mouth, laps it all up greedily, as Eddie swears and his mind goes blank. “Mmm, I missed that.”

Eddie might get hard again just from that one comment but he’s sure not going to admit it.

Buck finally strips, as Eddie fumbles with his own shirt, and then Buck’s mouth is all over him again, warm skin rubbing against him, that wicked tongue on Eddie’s nipples, his stomach, his throat.

“Fuck me,” he manages to get out against Buck’s lips right before Buck kisses him again. God, Buck’s _tongue_. It fucks his mouth lazily, like he owns every inch of Eddie’s body and so he can afford to take his time with it. It makes Eddie flush even hotter, makes his cock leak, and he strains against Buck, grinding down, dragging their cocks together.

Buck doesn’t even have to say anything—his fingers rub against Eddie, at his entrance, at the skin behind his balls, everywhere, like Buck’s reacquainting himself with all the little spots that make Eddie jolt. Eddie wraps his leg around Buck’s hip, thrusts harder, not even so much to take the edge off for himself as to give Buck another orgasm, to feed Buck, give Buck that glow. Even just sliding against the soft, firm muscles of Buck’s stomach feels so fucking good, and he has no shame smearing himself all over Buck’s skin as he comes a second time.

“Oh my _God_.” Buck sounds like he’s absolutely wrecked, like this is the world’s best feedback loop, Eddie’s pleasure becoming Buck’s pleasure, and it’s either eagerness or just being overwhelmed that has Buck’s fingers sliding into him.

Eddie bites at Buck’s jaw, reaches down and tugs at his tail, arches into Buck’s fingers shamelessly. Buck growls softly, sucks what’s going to be a pretty damn big hickey into Eddie’s collarbone (one he finally won’t have to cover up), and curls his fingers inside him.

 _Fuck_ , yes, that’s the spot. He groans long and loud, because Buck likes it when Eddie makes noise and doesn’t make comments. Buck twists his fingers, stretches them back and forth, rubs his thumb along the rim like he’s going to stick his entire goddamn fist in there, and it’s that thought that gets Eddie blindingly hard again.

“’M ready,” he promises, and Buck nips at his neck like he can’t fucking help himself, he wants to devour Eddie whole, and then he starts sliding inside.

It’s a tighter fit than it used to be, since it’s been a while, but Eddie doesn’t give a fuck. He’d have Buck crawl all the way inside of him if it was possible, he wants to be so intertwined he twitches and it’s Buck’s hand that moves, Buck breathes and it’s Eddie’s chest that inflates.

Buck slides one hand around the back of Eddie’s thigh, the other catching Eddie’s hand and intertwining their fingers before pushing it up and over Eddie’s head, bracing. Eddie squeezes Buck’s hand, darts his tongue out, licks at the shell of Buck’s ear. He doesn’t even have to say it out loud—he knows Buck knows what he means, and sure enough, Buck’s eyes gleam and he thrusts, hard.

Eddie groans in encouragement, free hand tugging on Buck’s curling hair at the back of his neck, and he keeps doing it until Buck’s movements all become a blur and he can’t even breathe without feeling like he’s setting himself on fire.

He doesn’t know exactly how Buck’s stamina works. The first time, Buck didn’t come until Eddie had about four orgasms under his belt, but after that, he usually came around the same time Eddie had his first. If he had to guess, he’d say that it’s not just about the physical sensations for Buck—it’s about feeding, and he only comes when he’s properly sated, no matter what sort of attention his dick is getting. And Buck really must be starving, because he fucks Eddie steadily through—well. Eddie kind of loses track.

Yeah, he can see why incubi have aphrodisiacs now. His body would’ve called it quits long ago if he hadn’t gotten that extra boost, making him writhe and moan and want more, more, _more_.

It’s like bathing in fire, in the best kind of way, incinerated to ashes and reborn all over again, he’s an absolute wreck and he doesn’t care because it feels so fucking _good_ and because every time, Buck makes a noise like he’s seen God and smiles so hard he can’t kiss Eddie properly. _So good,_ he keeps murmuring. Eddie’s not even sure Buck knows he’s saying it. _You’re so good, Eddie, so good…_

It makes warmth spread through his chest, a warmth that has nothing to do with the fire of arousal and pleasure, one that has everything to do with how he wants to hold Buck in his arms and never let him go.

“Please.” His words are so slurred he’s not even sure Buck can understand him. He can feel it start to wear down and he doesn’t want that yet, he doesn’t want this to end before he gets to feel Buck. “I want you to come, Buck, c’mon…”

Buck groans, his eyes blazing blue, a purple flush spreading down his chest, and Eddie feels liquid heat flood him. It feels delicious and dirty all at once and he comes a final time, the orgasm clawing its way up his spine, draining the last of his energy.

He flops his arm over Buck’s lower back, a lazy, silent plea for Buck not to go anywhere, as Buck squeezes Eddie’s hand and presses his forehead to Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie kisses the spot where Buck’s skin meets the base of his horn, and Buck shudders, stroking his fingers along Eddie’s hip.

God, he loves him. So fucking much. He’s glad Buck can see it, because Eddie doesn’t know how to say it—not that those three words are impossible to him, but how to describe the way he feels, the unspooling warmth in his chest, the soft cloud in his gut—he’s not good with his words that way. It doesn’t come naturally. But if Buck can see it… then Buck knows, and he’s glad, because Buck _needs_ to know. He needs to know that Eddie loves him.

They need to clean up. They need to talk. They need to do a lot of things. But none of that seems to matter as much as having Buck draped over him, hands intertwined, lazy kisses being exchanged. The sun pouring in from the windows lights up Buck’s skin, makes it shine, his tail swishing lazily back and forth and Eddie doesn’t know how Buck could ever be embarrassed, how Buck could ever think someone would only want his human appearance, when he looks this mesmerizing.

Buck manages to get some strength back and releases Eddie’s hand to brace himself up on his elbows and stare down at him, head cocked in that puppyish way he gets. Eddie stares back at him steadily. There’s nothing for him to hide anymore. He wants Buck to see whatever’s in his eyes, whatever’s on his face.

“Am I glowing now?” he whispers.

Buck’s smile is worshiping. “Like the sun.”

Eddie kisses him, and he swears he can taste it, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact, ‘incubus’ actually means ‘to lie above’ and ‘succubus’ means ‘to lie below’, so incubi and succubi aren’t divided by gender but by whether they’re a dom or a sub so what I’m saying is Maddie definitely tops Chim.
> 
> This fic now has fantastic artwork! Check it out here! https://letmetellyouaboutmyfeels.tumblr.com/post/635093403285209088/sketch-and-colorized-art-of-incubusbuck-and


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